Alice's Wonderland

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Happiness eludes a well hung gurl!
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CarrieQ
CarrieQ
160 Followers

Back in the days when I used to work as a barmaid in a gay club, my best friend was a workmate called Alice. We shared a room for a few months, living above the club together, which was handy cos we also shared a doctor, and were taking the same hormones.

Quite often, we used to compare our bodies to see how we were changing. And it was strange how much like chalk and cheese we were!

My breasts never grew much, though they became extremely sensitive, especially the nipples. I got so touchy there, just an accidental brush against somebody's jacket could send a quiver right through me! But downstairs? Why, the little I had simply shrivelled up so much, it looked sometimes like I'd already been given the snip, and Alice often joked the surgeon would need a microscope and tweezers to work on me!

But she was quite a different story...

Whereas I needed fillers to pad out an A cup bra, she was stretching a B cup in absolutely no time, and soon threatening far greater developments! Meanwhile, downstairs she had enough flaccid meat to make a gorilla green with envy! I mean honestly, I reckon plenty of dudes would have paid for her operation if it meant they could get her unwanted appendage grafted between their own legs!

Now naturally she didn't want to talk about it, but I can only guess she was born extremely well endowed down there? Anyway, by the time I hooked up with her, she was long past being able to get an erection, as the hormones had turned her fruits to nuts.

But still, she had so much meat that all she needed to do was give it a good rub then fit an Arab strap and the result looked impressive, even if the hosepipe was no longer plugged onto the tap!

Believe me, there are plenty of guys who'll pay a small fortune to play around with a gurl possessing an asset like that...

And that was useful cos, it goes without saying, Alice needed all the money she could get!

The club we worked at was in West London, and attracted a lot of guys who didn't think of themselves as gay. We barmaids all wore the same uniform, consisting of a pink blouse under a black waistcoat, a pink miniskirt, black seamed stockings and high-heeled pink stiletto sandals. Most nights the place got pretty crowded, and there was plenty of gropes and innuendoes, to say nothing of outright and often brazen proposals.

On these, the management's rule was simple; we could do whatever we liked, only it had to be in our own time. So if we wanted to disappear with some punter into the hotel across the street (a dive that rented rooms out by the hour) that was fine - just so long as it happened off the books.

Speaking for myself, I've never inclined towards selling my body, but I can't deny that maybe once or twice a really nice-looking customer I would have fancied anyhow maybe offered to take me over the road and, being a bit short of ready funds at the time, I succumbed.

It's only human nature, right?

Anyway, what I remember most about that hotel is how small the rooms were, and how much the beds used to creak! Also, that was where I first learnt that cockroaches can fly, which is not something you need to find out while you're on your knees deep-throating some guy!

But not being a slut by nature, I hardly ever entered the place, which cannot be said for Alice! Why, some nights she'd be still be there at daybreak!

Of course, thanks to her major asset that neither me nor any of the other barmaids possessed, she was in far higher demand than the rest of us.

So I guess it was always inevitable that, one fine evening, she was going to vanish inside that filthy flea pit and never come back?

Of course, the management were real angry cos she'd not worked any notice, and I was told sternly that if she tried to contact me about fetching her personal stuff from our room I was not to help her, but to tell the boss instead.

But that never happened...

Instead, about three months after she disappeared, I received a phone call from her, asking me to go and see her in an extremely upmarket part of Chelsea; the kind of area where so-called Sloane Rangers and yuppie bankers were paying insane prices for tiny apartments.

So I visited this fancy building, wearing my most demure floral dress and flattest court heels, and took one of those accordion elevators up to the fourth floor past so many hand-painted tiles they'd pay for a Rolls Royce and, feeling a long way out of place, I knocked on a door made of such solid English oak I feared I just had to be the victim of some insane practical joke...

But no, the door was answered by Alice! And she was ever so eager to see me...

To say she was pleased would be quite a colossal understatement; I was greeted with the broadest grin I've ever gazed upon, with her ivories sparkling next to her pretty plum lipstick, before she all but dragged me across the threshold of what, without a doubt, has to be the nicest home my heels have ever sullied.

I mean honestly, this pad was palatial! Every room had Axminster carpets, Chippendale furniture and original oil paintings by Old Masters. It was like the place had been kitted out for the Royal Family, and much as I was impressed, I soon began to worry, for what the hell could Alice possibly have done to deserve any of this?

In her divine designer kitchen, while a blender of sophistication far beyond my understanding prepared a couple of Harvey Wallbangers, I sat on a Conran chair as Alice explained her situation to me...

The apartment belonged to Simeon, an old Etonian art dealer she'd met at the club and who had taken her across the road to the hotel a number of times, before deciding he wanted a much more exclusive arrangement.

He lived with his wife and family in an upmarket enclave of Berkshire, but came to town most days for work, and expected Alice to be at his beck and call. And in exchange, she lived this life of pampered luxury.

It all sounded so perfect, as if she was in Wonderland, right? She should have been happier than the cat that stole the cream; except she clearly wasn't!

The fact was, stress was stretching her every syllable; and that wasn't the only obvious change to her tone - her voice was far deeper than it used to be!

I was thinking how to raise an issue that is, for gurls like me and Alice, an incredibly sensitive subject, when the rattling of a latchkey suddenly interrupted my thoughts, and sent Alice into some kind of terrible panic.

It seemed that Simeon had arrived unexpectedly!

Without the least ado, I was hastily rushed towards the master bedroom, tripping tremulously over several sheepskins before being bundled into a wardrobe from where, Alice's frightened eyes assured me, I was about to witness the kind of service Simeon expected in return for all his material generosity.

With the wardrobe door conveniently ajar, I was able to peep from the shadows as a smart suit appeared, inside which a rather arrogant fellow of around forty had taken residence; a chap who preferred a neckerchief to a tie, and spoke like he'd a plum stuck in his mouth.

"Do be quick darling, I don't have all day!"

"Sorry, Simeon! I'm trying my best..."

"Mmm, so you keep saying; there are other fish, don't you know?"

"Sorry!"

Spying like a sly Peeping Tom, I watched Alice unzip her beautiful designer dress and let it fall onto the carpet. Then, standing tearfully in silver heels, black seamed hold-up stockings and a white cross-your-heart bra that expertly matched her panty girdle, she peeled off that last item, rolling it right down her nylon-clad legs till it fell to the floor, freeing her to finally step out of its constraints...

And that's when I gasped so hard, I'm amazed to this day that nobody heard me!

I really couldn't believe my eyes, and rubbed them so much I messed up my eye shadow, thinking all the time I must have been hallucinating, only no! it was oh, so awfully true...

Alice was hung like a farmyard bull!

I believe I've already explained how her meat-rod used to be a pretty impressive organ, even when it was flaccid, and how she could rub enough life into it so that, with a cock ring fitted, there was always a healthy handful of flesh for those who were interested (of whom, as I've said, there were usually plenty!).

But now, she was a creature transformed! Her big, bulging balls dangled from a long, drooping sac, while her impressively fat phallus stood rigidly to attention, every bit as remarkable for its girth as for its extension. And I swear by all the gods, there was no way she fell short of a full nine inches between her fat, throbbing cherry and the spot where, should things finally work out for her, the pussy she craves will one day rest!

With Alice standing beside the bed in a state of rigid readiness, Simeon asked: "Please Mummy Pig, might Popsy Pig have some milk from his favourite udder?"

"Of course, Popsy Pig!"

"Oh, thank you so much, Mummy Pig!"

On which note, Simeon got down on his knees before Alice, and began to suck her off with a vigour I've rarely seen before! I mean seriously, I've been called a cock-hungry slut once or twice, when I've maybe had the hots for some hunk who was perhaps playing a waiting game with me, but this was something else; Simeon was simply gagging to get as much of Alice's meat into his mouth as he could manage!

The guy was so greedy, it was kind of degrading to watch. He behaved like a small kid locked in a sweetshop; stuffing his face furiously, like he was scared he was about to be rudely interrupted.

Except it wasn't candy he was filling his throat with, it was Alice's miraculously reinvigorated male member! And the more Simeon sucked and blew on her, the more distressed she started to look. I swear, before she emptied her load down his eager throat, I'd seen Alice wipe tears from her eyes more times than I could count.

But I don't think Simeon could have cared less about that; as far as he was concerned, he'd had his fun...

And that was all that counted!

As soon as 'Popsy Pig' had drunk his 'milk' he quickly smoked a cigarette and returned to work, freeing me to clamber out of the wardrobe and comfort my quietly crying friend.

"You see what I have to put up with?" Alice sobbed, and I truly sympathised, because the last thing gurls like us ever want to do is take any kind of active role.

"But how can you?" I asked in all seriousness. And I wasn't trying to philosophize; I meant how was it possible for her to perform so well, with all the hormones she was taking?

Of course, a quick peek at the new medicines Simeon had arranged for her held some neat answers!

For a start, her new hormone tablets were homoeopathic HRT pills, and when I explained how dilute they were, Alice started crying even more. But even worse, it turned out the other capsules Simeon had bought for her were intended to remedy male impotence! And they were working fine, which was why she pretty much had a 24/7 boner!

Over an exquisite coffee in her divine kitchen, I discreetly pointed out how much her body had changed in the short time since we'd been room mates; not only how her voice had deepened, but also how her boobs had shrunk, while her overall physique had become far more masculine.

I pleaded with her to see that Simeon never wanted her to have the snip; that he was merely using her to avoid confronting his own serious issues.

But, although she nodded many times in an empathetic manner, I knew she wasn't really listening, cos Simeon had introduced her to a life of luxury she knew she'd never get another shot at, so she was going try to hang in there, come what may.

I'd like to end this tale by telling how I walked out of that sublime, upmarket apartment and never saw Alice again; that I don't have a clue what happened to her; but sadly, that wouldn't be true.

About a year later, I was down on my luck somewhat, so took to working in a lap dancing club behind King's Cross station. I say I was down on my luck, but I hadn't hit rock bottom; that spot was reserved for the gurls working the street outside!

One dark night when I was just going in to start my shift, I saw a familiar face chatting with the driver of an old Mercedes. In a pink plastic miniskirt and red fishnet stockings, she sidled forward so he could put his hand under her hem and feel whether or not he wanted to pay for the goods on offer.

That's the moment our eyes met, while she had that sweet but sickly smile on her face, cos she really needed him to buy her but, in a way, she was also kind of hoping he wouldn't!

Perhaps we exchanged a nod? I'm no longer sure, but I doubt it, cos gurls like us tend to walk on by and leave each other wallowing in our own respective miseries.

One thing's for sure though...

My Alice sure wasn't living in Wonderland!

CarrieQ
CarrieQ
160 Followers
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jackal56jackal56almost 3 years ago

Like your writing. Funny, fun and sexy. Tell me another story.

ZoeyWZoeyWover 8 years ago

These metaphors in the first paragraph are killing me

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